“It’s not a big deal, I’ve probably got some stuff in my closet upstairs. It’s been a few years, but Montesquieu can probably help me resize it, right?” I looked over to my father’s assistant, who nodded. “That settles it then. Tomorrow morning, I take Simon, Remé and Xallis out to a tailor to pick up some clothes for formal occasions so we can go see the Jester. We’ll probably head to the Clerk’s Ward, I know of a few places near the Festhall that might have what we need and are within what we can afford to spend on clothes right now.”
With tomorrow planned, everyone headed to whichever rooms they’d claimed for sleeping quarters. We definitely going to need to succeed in obtaining some kind of land the next day since Chaser’s Manse was about to burst at the seams, even with the few extra guest rooms we had in the basement for “railroad business.” Even packed as it was, it was more then my friends and I had seen in quite a while in terms of accommodations, and it felt exceptionally good to be back in my own bed, which is where I was headed as soon as I figured out which of my outfits I had left at home I would be willing to show up to court in. I pull my closet open to start transferring my new clothes onto the hooks and evaluate what I had left behind when I left Sigil.
I had robes. A closet full of robes, mostly linen or cotton and dyed all those subdued colors you wear as an apprentice trying to prove yourself as an arcanist. I had forgotten how hard I was trying back then to prove myself. I pulled out a green robe that I remembered as having been a favorite. It had, I kid you not, silver stars embroidered on the sleeves and down the chest. I balled up the robe in my hands, trying figure out a way other then burning the robe to hide the heated flush the was running through my cheeks. It’s as I’m kneading the robe in my hands and debating ignition that I notice the good-sized box sitting in the bottom of the closet, B.C.-Goodwill stenciled on the side.
“Thank you, Monti,” I dropped the robe into the donation box Montesquieu had left in my room and proceeded to evaluate everything else in my closet. Aside from the rough traveling clothes I brought back from the prime everything I grabbed went into the Goodwill box at my feet. Not only was none it presentable enough for politics, but they all screamed of trying too hard. I had to remind myself of the needy several times when particularly embarrassing/offensive articles emerged from the closet. I was almost finished with the closet when I found the one thing that merited a maybe. It was robes, like everything I had apparently worn when I was sixteen, but these were done in a black silk with a prismatic thread stitching though it. It didn’t scream “Respect Me, I’m an Arcanist!” like everything else and it was silk, so the material and pattern was presentable enough for a major function; that said, it was still robes. I was about to drop it in the box for the bleakers when I remembered where I got them. Celadine. She had made this for me before I left the city as a birthday present. I never had the chance to wear it before Dad suddenly pulled up stakes and took me wandering worlds for five years giving me my final training in magic. I decided there was no use throwing away something I’ve never worn, but it wouldn’t do for tomorrow.
I hung it back up on the hook and finished sorting through the rest of my clothes then crashing into my bed; it was as I lay in bed drifting off that my mind started to wander to thoughts of my first love, “I wonder what she’d been up to. Maybe she’s still working at her mom’s shop. Maybe that’s where we should go to get clothes....”
“Okay, the place should be right around here.”
“Very good. I know of a wonderful little cocherestaurante a few blocks from here. Come find us at ‘Amanecer.’ You know where it is, yes?” I nodded to Manuel, and he lead a hungry pirate and a groggy vampire off to grab some breakfast. I motioned to my friends to follow me, and we headed off down a street as I tried to place where “Stitched by an Angel” had ended up with all the changes in the city of the past six years; it took a few minutes and a street didn’t connect in the same place as it used to, but “Stitched” was still roughly where I remembered it.
“Is it staffed by actual Angels, Abe?” Xallis was staring at the slightly luminous white letters of the building. I noticed he was actually trying to avoid looking too hard at the mannequins, but didn’t want to ask.
“It used to be. The original owner was a Lillend by the name of Rererlehiel, but it’s now operated by her daughters and their descendants, the original seamstress having headed Arborea a few centuries ago. They still do excellent work though, some of the best in the city that you’ll find for prices that wouldn’t bankrupt a dragon.”
“Interesting.” Simon was ‘off’ right now, using only a few words. Probably prepping himself for what all figured was going to be a very challenging confrontation against the Jester after we finished here. “Xallis, could you help Remé? I think she might need the assistance.”
Simon’s bodyguard gave him a strange look before letting herself be lead into the store by an excited half-elf who shouted, “That matches my hat!” as he dragged her inside.
Simon turned to me and I felt his presence in my mind :I’m not sure of the culture here, Abe. What do you recommend?:
I thought about it for a moment. I could still feel Simon there, waiting for me to answer as I took a look at my friend and tried to figure out how to make the quiet mentalist fit in where standing out was the norm. :I’d probably trust the apprentices in there, they won’t steer you in a wrong place, and they do work that you would probably be more comfortable with. One recommendation though – Brown is for druids, forget that cloth comes in that color.: I smiled through the slightly sour look he gave me as he turned and headed into the store. I tried to approach the store, but it kept felt like something was holding me back, my feet just weren’t moving as fast as I wanted them to be.
I closed my eyes, letting my senses expand and tried to feel if I was being hit with some magical attack; all I saw as I looked inwards was nerves that rattled me as bad as terror magics. I took a deep breath, and separated my thoughts from my emotions; it’s not exactly pleasant, but it was a trick I figured out watching Simon that was useful in dealing with mortal and supernatural tests of mental fortitude. My mind clear and my nerves reduced to a low rattle, I was able to start walking towards the store again, stopping in the window to look into the store. I took a look at the styles that Ambriel el Rererlehiel had in the front window, examining them with the thought that it might be a good idea to pick up a piece done by a master tailor. Through the mannequins, I could see Xallis rushing around the store, a teenage girl and Remé running after him as he dove head-first into the world of style, trusting the whispers of his mad god to guide him. I couldn’t see Simon, but he was probably arguing with one of the apprentices about what constituted an appropriate outfit for a civilian dignitary to wear.
And behind the counter, Celedine, her rainbow patterned hair shimmering in the light, looking like it could begin to glow at any moment. It actually could, when she was happy. I headed over to the door, swinging it open. As the silver bells attached to it began to jangle, I said hello to my first girlfriend for the first time in six years, “Hey Cel. How’s life?” Those were almost my last words as a heavy wooden hat stand came hurtling towards my head. I managed to bring my hand up to intercede and a wave of sound hurtled toward the heavy wooden object, turning it into toothpicks about a foot away from my head.
“Abraxas Spellchaser, you sodding bastard. You walk back into my life after what you did, and you act like nothing happened? Give me one good reason to not beat you with a stick and throw you out in the street.” She had emerged from behind the counter, wielding said stick in a menacing fashion in my direction.
“Uh, your mother probably doesn’t want you damaging the store. And what did I do?” I cut off that line of argument quickly as I saw the expression on her face; some signers are just as willing to embrace a good angry rage as they are to let themselves be carried away by a happy moment. “Okay, can we at least head to a backroom for this argument? Please?”
She sighs as she turns and heads to a door behind the counter. I follow her behind the counter, but she turns on me as she places a hand on the door. “I’m giving you ten minutes, and then you’re going to leave and not come back here again.”
I’m through the door and have closed it behind us before my mouth gets me into trouble again, “Ten minutes? I’m not sixteen anymore, Celadine.” The hallway is small enough that I don’t have any place to move when she turns and lands a punch dead center in my stomach. Instinctively, I curl around my stomach and miss the armor I wore on Octogoth for a moment.
“Neither am I, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. One more joke like that –”
“Right, say no more.” I nod and take a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry, it just slipped out there. Why do I have a feeling those words are going to be on repeat in the next few minutes?” I look at her and motion to the door she’s leaning against, “Can we go somewhere and sit down now?” She opens the door, letting us into the business office of “Stitched by an Angel,” motioning me to sit down in one of the chairs in front of the desk while she positions herself behind it. We sat there for a few minutes, looking at each other. We’d both changed in the past six years; I had grown a little taller while getting a lot leaner, travel and people threatening my life on a weekly basis hardening the overeager teenager I’d been. Celedine had just grown more beautiful, the past six years giving her time to fully grow into her celestial heritage; it’s cliche, but she looked like an angel, rainbow hair and silver eyes. Currently the angry, avenging type angel about the punish the wicked, but still. “What happened Celadine? I know I got pulled away from the city, but–”
“Got pulled away? Let me tell you what happened: I had just slept with my boyfriend, who I was very much in love with, for the first time. My first time. One of those important experiences that’s supposed to be a treasure in a life that never provides enough, and then the Shitheel vanishes, leaving me alone. Oh, and let’s not forget the day I realize he’s missing a war breaks out in the city on our doorstep.”
It’s a short few sentences, but they hit me like a ton of bricks, “Okay.”
“Okay? You said you had something to say for yourself, why not try?”
“Because I know what happened on my end, and even I’m inclined to agree with the hanging judge. I’m sorry, let me tell you what happened and then I’ll get out of your hair. Which looks wonderful by the way, love the way you have all the colors blended in the braid.” She looks me in the face for a second before she seems to come to the conclusion I’m not trying to avoid the subject, just distracted. She’s always been–but that was the past now. “The day I vanished, I was getting ready to head out and meet you, just like you wanted. I know you didn’t get into the festhall very often and you wanted to hear your father play. But as I’m getting ready to head out, Dad rushes into the house, tells me to pack a bag of travel clothes, that I’m about done with my apprenticeship, there’s just a few more exercises that we need to do and time is of the essence. You remember how anxious I was to accomplish something in his eyes back then, right?”
Celadine nods before giving me the rolling get on with it motion. “I had packed the bag before I remembered our date, but I asked him if it could wait. He was insistent, we had to go. He grabbed me and my bag and opened a portal I’d never seen him use in the house before. You’ve heard me try and describe what I remembered of the Shadow before, right? All grays that are also the real colors at the same time. We came through the portal somewhere in the shadow, a boat dock with a small speedboat tied to it. Nerick throws my bag in the back of the speedboat as I’m hunting the arch we just passed through, trying to find out how to open it. I tried to figure it out in vain for several minutes before Dad used the graduation exercises carrot again, which finally got me into the boat. He untied the boat, and I blacked out at some point after the boat started moving.
“The next five years we spent traveling Primes, not sticking anyplace for more then six months. It was a set of graduation exercises, I suppose when I look back on it. I actually lost track of time as we went world-walking and I saw Dad at work for real for the first time. After a graduate education in trouble-making with Dad, he dropped me off on a Prime called Octogoth. It’s a near-magic dead world, but there was business I had to finish there; stuff from before. It took me a year to build up enough magical energy to escape. And I swear to you, upon my name and my power, I’ve been in the city less then forty-eight hours and you’re the first place I headed when I was able to move with someone chasing me out a window.” I drew a symbol across my chest as I swore the oath. Had I been full of shit, it probably would have lit me on fire. Having said everything I could think to say, I slumped back into the chair to wait for her to tell me to leave.
“It wasn’t your choice?” I nodded in response. “That... makes it hurt less.”
“You need to know, I did love you. With all the stupid and fiery passion of a teenager.”
“So teenagers are stupid?”
“I was. I spent last night looking through my closet, the only thing that didn’t scream of trying to hard was the robe you gave me. Doesn’t mean the feelings weren’t any less intense, but we were young; more inclined to let ourselves be swept away with them.”
“Some would say it’s the only way to find all those bits of life that are worth living.” She smiled as we started to fall back into old patterns. We both grew up in a city where arguments about how to live your life were how you said hello, and it seems even with the factions gone, there are some habits that remain.
I smiled in response before the situation came back to me. This wasn’t a happy ending, just the end. “You may be right, Cel. I know I’ve rarely had as much fun as when we were together. I’m sorry that’s in the past. I’ve spent long enough riling you up. You know of another tailor you’d trust? I still need to find a new set of clothes for the city.”
I had pulled myself out of the chair and turned to the door when her voice stopped me. “Trust? Maybe, but there’s nobody better. At least that you can afford. Follow me.” She came up next to me and nudged me with her hip away from the door, opening it and heading further down the hallway to one of the workshops in the back. As she lead me into it, I saw her name in paint on the frame of the door.
“Your own workroom? It seems like we’ve both left our apprentice days well behind us.” Celadine was flipping through a rack of clothes at the back of the room, but her crystal clear laugh wasn’t muffled by the cloth.
She turned to me, her multi-chromatic hair beginning to shimmer and shift, a wide smile across her face. “Drop ‘em, Spellchaser; I need measurements, I doubt any I took six years ago are going to work.”
I did what the lady said, slightly embarrassed as I stood there in my boxers after I finished. “True, I suppose. Charred sheets of paper are hard to read, aren’t they?” That got another laugh out of her as she pulled her tape out and began to see how I measured up. We both got a little quiet as she went about it. I mean, it was just a professional thing, she’s probably done this a hundred times in the six years I’ve been gone. Didn’t stop it from being weird.
“You know, “ She picked up the conversation as she was measuring my inseam, “I blamed the war on you.”
“Past tense?”
“Like you said, we were sixteen. I only blamed you until I was eighteen or so.”
I laughed as I came up with the rejoinder. “I think that between the two of us, I wasn’t the one worth going to war over.” That set her laughing as well, which was probably a bad thing to do when your tailor is holding needles and measuring tape in your inseam; she stuck me with the needles, then slapped my leg and reprimanded me to hold still.
“I actually think I’ve got something that will fit. I’m going to guess you’ll want something in blue?” She had stood up and was taking down the measurements; I looked at her confused for a moment before she tapped the side of my face next to my eyes, which glowed with the signature of my magic. I rolled my eyes and nodded. “I’ve got one that will fit now without too much adjustment and could make a few more in the next few days...” From there was the business of planning out a new wardrobe with the beautiful fashion expert, with me trading my cloak for a slightly more stylish jacket that went with the outfit she had ready and could design around. It took time to plan things out and adjust the one completed outfit, and large amounts of jink were exchanged, but I had one outfit for the meeting with Jeremo, and several more that would be delivered to Chaser’s Manse in the next week.
I was walking out of the back area ahead of her, after letting her know that I needed to check on my friends, telling her it was only a slight chance they’d burn the building down without supervision. After a quick glance that the store wasn’t actively in the process of burning down, I turned back to her, “Could I convince you to take dinner with me sometime?”
“If you try hard enough.” Maybe it’s not a happy ending, but it might just be a good place to start again.
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